Notebook To Burn
by Konsui's Little Brother
Summary: State the obvious, Hermione didn't get her perfect fantasy. Her notebook was wrong. Very, very wrong. She wasted so much of her time that year going after Ron. And in the end, none of it mattered.


A/N: What I _hope_ will be a slightly original take on 'Picture To Burn'. It was difficult to come up with, but well worth it in the end! And, surprisingly, a lot of fun to write.

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><p>As a child, Hermione loved to plan things out. Every little detail she could think of for her future life was written down with paper and pencil and then stored away under her mattress. That was her secret hiding spot. If something was put there, then no one else would ever be able to find it. At least that's what her nine year old self firmly believed.<p>

One of her favorite things to plan, though,was her wedding. Over and over, Hermione would play out the way she wanted to get married. It would happen on the beach and her dress would look just like Cinderella's, only it would be white instead of blue, and the cake would be chocolate with vanilla icing. Her father would walk her down the aisle while _I'll Hold You up_ played. Her mother would sit in the very front row and she would cry, but because she was so glad her daughter was in love.

And the man she married would have been her best friend for years. They would know everything about each other, from her fears to his favorite foods. Her husband would be tall and brave and loving. And he would have red hair, because Hermione's favorite doll had red hair and she thought that it was the prettiest thing.

That was what a young Hermione wanted when she was a child. When she was young and care free and had nothing to worry about but making sure she didn't get any cavaties. Then she turned eleven and found out she was a witch. Things changed then.

Her dreams changed; to be known for something other than a muggleborn.

Her goals changed; to make a difference in the new world that she was growing to love.

Her ideas for the future changed; from dentist to an official in the Ministry of Magic.

But what stayed the same was how she wanted to be married. Of course, still young and with so much else on her mind, Hermione didn't realize that her new best friend was tall and brave and loving and with red hair to boot. Ron was everything that her notebook described.

She didn't realize it until Fourth Year.

The Yule Ball to be exact. When she peered around Victor's shoulder and saw Ron. Both of the Patil twins had taken off by then, as had Harry, and the red head was left sitting alone. His hair was mussed, most likely from his running his hands through it, and there was a fairie hanging almost directly above him, casting a pale blue glow on him. And something clicked then, in the very back of her mind.

She was going to say something too. Going to tell him that she thought he looked quite dashing. But she never got the chance that night, nor the rest of the year. Everything was just too fast-paced and soon, with the final task coming up quickly and all the studying that she had to do, summer was there and she didn't have a chance to say _anything_ to him.

By the Fifth Year, she was almost desperate to tell him. She'd asked to meet him in the Common Room. He must have forgotten. Forgivable, as he seemed very preoccupied. By Lavender Brown, whom he was snogging on one of the couches by the fireplace.

Hermione didn't know that she was so completely and utterly in love with him until right then when her heart started to break.

The funny thing was, no matter how much it upset her, Hermione couldn't get herself to cry. Not because there was no reason, because she could certainly find plenty of them, but because it just wasn't worth it. Not when Ron seemed so oblivous to how much walking in on that had hurt her.

So she got defensive and she got snarky and she got nasty. And, in her mind, it was fully justifiable. She heard him call her crazy one night, in a whispered conversation with Harry. He never heard her tell Parvati that she was certain he was gay.

Rumors spread on both parts.

And it hurt Hermione more than she would ever admit. But it was either act like she was or sit down and cry. And she _refused_ to do that over a man. Not now, not ever.

So she lifted the mattress up, ignoring the stares from her fellow Gryffindors, and pulled the battered red notebook out from beneath it. Katie asked if everything was alright, Angelina raised an eyebrow, and Hermione ignored them both. She slipped into the bathroom and tossed the notebook in the sink. And then with a simple spell, she watched it burn.

And with it, all of her concerns over who Ron was dating.


End file.
